


Arafax Deep

by RationalCashew



Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 14:20:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18918751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RationalCashew/pseuds/RationalCashew
Summary: I have this headcanon where Mulder was living in some sort of dream world while he was “dead” and buried in season 8. This is my attempt to make an actual story out of that.MSR. Season 8. One-shot.





	Arafax Deep

**Author's Note:**

> I never actually thought out this headcanon until I turned it into a story. I imagine this part of it to be going on during the events of Dead/Alive.
> 
> I feel like it’s obvious, but just in case: the tiny bit of dialogue from Dead/Alive was not written by me. I’d have written that episode a bit differently if it had been. 😝
> 
> Also, sorry for any typos. This has not been beta'd.

“Daaaad!”

A tugging on his wrist prompted Mulder to look up, meeting a pair of Scully-blue eyes underneath a familiarly arched eyebrow. He couldn’t help but to grin at the small boy with reddish-brown hair standing in front of him. The child frowned.

“What’s up, dude?”

“You have to come see what I found!” he said, tugging on Mulder’s wrist again.

“Yeah, Dad,” his favorite voice said as he rose from his place on the sand. Mulder turned around in time to see Scully come to a stop, a smirk perfectly perched on her lips. “You have to see what he found.” She looked down to the little boy who was still holding onto his wrist and added, “ _After_ you put some of this on.”

Mulder smirked as she held out a bottle of sunblock to their child. The boy’s face fell pathetically. Although, his father had a creeping suspicion that it was a stratagem employed to garner pity.

It didn’t.

“It’s this or you can go back inside,” Scully said, one hand going to her hip and the other holding out the offending bottle. Mulder stifled a laugh causing Scully’s amused gaze to lock with his own for the briefest of seconds.

“It makes me smell weird!” the child whined dramatically. Scully didn’t budge. The boy faced his father, expectantly. Some father/son version of Bro Code or something like it, he assumed.

“She’s the boss, bud,” Mulder said innocently. “She makes me wear it, too.”

The boy growled his concession and took the sunblock.

“Good choice,” Scully replied.

Mulder smirked and closed the gap between he and Scully while the child begrudgingly applied the sunblock to himself beside them. Scully smiled at him and he pressed a kiss to her lips.

“Okay! Can we go now?” The small, impatient voice interrupted. He felt Scully’s smile against his lips before they parted.

“Just a minute,” Mulder replied without looking away from her, causing her to laugh. The boy groaned, annoyed, as Mulder stole another kiss. He heard the sand shift as the child, presumably, walked away.

After a brief moment, Scully put her hand on his chest and said, “You better go see what he wants to show you.” There was a hint of amusement in her voice that caused Mulder to grin.

“Yeah…”

He leaned in again.

“Go!” She laughed, pushing him back a step before he could successfully kiss her again. “I don’t want him by himself. He could get hurt.”

Mulder hung his head in defeat. When he glanced up in an attempt to sucker another kiss from her with the “puppy eyes” as she called them, she was grinning almost as though she’d been expecting that look. He wasn’t going to win this one. Like father, like son, he supposed.

He turned to follow their minuscule creation to where he was crouched just down the beach, glancing back only once to find Scully watching them, hand shielding her eyes and her wedding ring sparkling in the sun. Instinctively, Mulder’s hand went to twist the band around his own finger as he crouched next to his only begotten.

“What do you think it is?” the small boy sounded even smaller as he kept his voice quiet.

Mulder looked down to where the child pointed only to find that a sand dollar had washed up on the shore. He couldn’t help but to grin.

“Hmm…” Mulder replied in feigned confusion. “It could be a water-type alien.”

His kid shot him a look of skepticism that could rival Scully’s as he deadpanned, “Mom said aliens aren’t real.”

Mulder scoffed. “Well, who you do think would know better: me or Mom?”

The boy’s eyebrow arched perfectly as he stated, matter-of-factly, “Mom.”

Mulder gaped in genuine surprise before feigning injury and placing his hands over his heart, “Son, you wound me!”

Completely ignoring him, the boy studied the sand dollar for a moment before squinting up at Mulder. “Can I show my specimen to Mom?”

Mulder laughed. Leave it to Scully’s spawn to refer to something unknown as a “specimen.” He picked up the sand dollar to make sure that it wasn’t still living before he handed it to his child.

“Yeah, bud, you can show Mom.” Mulder stood and led his son back toward the house.

“Do you think she’ll know what it is?” He asked.

“Oh, I don’t know. She might.”

“Mom’s pretty smart,” the boy said, causing Mulder to chuckle.

“Yeah, she is,” he replied wondering four years old was old enough to understand the significance of rewriting Einstein.

Probably not.

When they got back to the house, Scully was sitting comfortably in one of the chairs on the large back porch, reading a book.

“Momma, look!”

She looked up as the small child proudly held out his specimen. She set the book on the small table and pulled the boy onto her lap.

“You found a sand dollar?” She asked, studying it over his shoulder as the boy twirled the sand dollar in his hands.

“Daddy said it was a water-type alien,” he said, glaring up at Mulder from under his eyebrows as though he knew his father had been messing with him.

Scully shot Mulder and amused look.

“I think Daddy was teasing, Sweetie,” she said and pressed a kiss to the boy’s temple. “Aliens don’t exist.”

“I told you!” he said, looking at Mulder with accusation in his eyes. Mulder, in turn, glared at his son with mock offense as Scully hid her smirk in their child’s hair. She kissed the back of his head.

“Ready for lunch?” She asked, as her baby slid off of her lap.

“I want to go swimming.”

“You can go swimming after you take a nap.”

“I’m not sleepy,” he whined.

“You will be after lunch. You’ve been out in the sun all day.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You were asking for a snack on the way back here,” Mulder interjected. “You remember what I told you?”

“That it’s almost lunch time?”

“And, unless you were sneaking bites of sand on the way back, you haven’t eaten yet.” Mulder made a face and playfully added, “You weren’t eating sand, were you?”

“Ew! Why would I eat sand? That’s gross!” He replied crinkling his nose and looking very much like his mother. Scully chuckled.

“Then, I think lunch and a nap sounds great. We can go swimming afterward.”

“I don’t want to take a nap.”

Scully let out a sigh. She looked like she might cave, but Mulder wasn’t about to let that happen. He knew exactly how every subsequent nap time would play out and, if he was being honest, Mulder did _not_ want to be on the receiving end of that. Not to mention the number of times he’d seen his son rubbing his eyes in the last hour and he knew that the boy didn’t sleep very well the night before. Whether he liked it or not, the kid needed a nap or there would be hell to pay later.

“Don’t argue with me,” Mulder said firmly.

“But-!”

“You can take a nap and come back outside and go swimming when you wake up… or, you can eat lunch and take a nap and stay inside. Which one do you want?”

Scully shot him an appreciative glance.

The four-year-old sighed, defeated, and said, “I’ll take nap and go swimming.”

“Go wash your hands and I’ll get your lunch ready,” Scully said.

“Can I bring my specimen in the house?”

“Yes, but -,” Mulder watched as it dawned on his wife what their child had called the sand dollar and she fought back laughter. “Your specimen?” She glanced briefly to Mulder, her eyes twinkling with amusement, and then back to the child.

“That’s what it is,” he replied, matter-of-factly.

“Yes, you can take your, erm, specimen inside.”

He bolted to the door, attempting to slide it open before Scully stopped him. “Hold it!” He stopped pulling on the glass door and looked up at his mother. Even Mulder wasn’t sure what was going on. “Take off your shoes. I don’t want you tracking sand through the house.”

The child huffed but obeyed before Scully opened the door for him and he ran down the hall at warp speed.

“Specimen?” She asked, still amused.

“He’s definitely your son,” Mulder replied with a smirk of his own before pressing a kiss to her forehead and heading into the kitchen. “Want me to get his lunch ready?”

“No, I’ll do it.” She went to the fridge and began to pull out the contents for a sandwich. “You know, Mulder, we could just let him skip his nap. He’ll probably sleep better tonight if we do.”

“Scully, you and I both know that if we let him skip his nap today, he’ll try it again tomorrow. And, the next day. And, the next day. Plus, he’s been in the sun since he ate breakfast. You know how grumpy he gets.” Mulder faced his wife to see her smirking as she prepared a sandwich for their son. “What?”

She shook her head and replied, “I didn’t say anything.” She paused before adding, “But, Mulder, one of these days – sooner rather than later – he won’t need naps anymore. He’s getting to that age.”

“Well, he’s not that age, yet,” Mulder grumbled. He looked up to see his wife smirking. “What?”

“You’re not ready for this step, are you?”

“Are  _you_?” he challenged.

“Ask me that when he’s in kindergarten,” Scully retorted. Mulder couldn’t help but to chuckle.

* * *

Nap time long over, Mulder watched as his wife sat in the sand with their son; a sandcastle being built between them. He tried to recall a time he was as happy as that moment. He couldn’t.

“You know you can’t stay here,” a soft, sad voice said from beside him. Mulder glanced over to the ghost of his sister-in-law but ignored her statement. Instead, he returned his gaze to Scully and their son. He watched intently as she listened to whatever the youngest Mulder was saying, quirking her eyebrow and smirking every now and then before replying.

The boy giggled loudly and said, “Moooom!” in such a way that Mulder couldn’t help but to smile.

“Fox,” Melissa pressed.

“Why not?” He asked. “I like it here. There are no monsters to chase, no conspiracies to thwart… just my beautiful wife, amazing kid, and relaxing beach.”

“It’s not real,” she replied softly.

“It feels real.”

Melissa sighed in a tone that Mulder was pretty sure was a key component of Scully DNA: annoyance.

“I know you love my sister,” she said after a couple of minutes. “We all knew that years ago.”

Scully’s laughter captured Mulder’s attention.

“So, why stay here when she’s fighting so hard for you?”

Mulder swallowed, trying to ignore the comment. How was he supposed to convey that he liked it here because she was safe? How was he supposed to say that he liked it here because they had a child, something he’d longed to be able to give to her? Wherever this was, they had a life; a _good_ one, a happy one. Why would he want to give that up?

“I get it, Fox,” Melissa sighed. He glanced to her as she watched Scully tickle their child. “I really do.”

Mulder swallowed hard but returned his gaze to his family for several minutes.

Scully looked up at him, smiling widely before she said something to their son. He watched both of them rise from the sand.

“Can she see you?” He asked as Scully took the boy by the hand.

“Do you want her to?”

Of course, he wanted her to. Mulder would’ve loved for Scully to get a chance to spend time with her sister again, have a conversation with her, tell her all about her life.

But, he said nothing.

“Aunt Missy, build a sandcastle with me!” The boy said excitedly, releasing his mother’s hand as he sprinted the last few feet to where Mulder and Melissa sat.

“Please,” Scully corrected him.

“Please,” the boy added with a megawatt grin.

“I would love to, Nephew,” Melissa said rising from her spot and heading toward the water with his child. Scully sat in the sand on the other side of him. His arm wrapped around her of its own accord and she rested her head against his shoulder.

Mulder lost all concept of time as they watched their son play in the sand with his aunt.

Eventually, Melissa disappeared and he was putting the boy to bed, reading _Where the Wild Things Are_ in the animated voices for the millionth time.

Finally, the youngest member of the Mulder clan dozed off. Mulder hesitated lest he wake the boy prematurely.

When he was satisfied the child wouldn’t wake, he shut the book, flicked off the lamp, and set out to find his wife.

Scully was leaning against the railing of the back porch, watching the waves crash against the shore. He should have known. It wasn’t the first time he’d caught her out there, sipping tea. The seafaring girl could grow up, meet a boy in the city, and build a life with him, but the woman she became would always hold a place for the ocean in her heart. He’d learned that much about her since the day they’d met: Dana Scully adored the ocean.

It was partly what had made him choose this particular house to call their home when they’d decided to walk away from the ever elusive answers that seemed to only cause them more and more pain with each new question.

This was their answer now: a precocious four-year-old with bright blue eyes, reddish-brown hair, and an unceasing wonder for the world around him. They had a family; a life. And, for the first time since Mulder could remember, he was happy.

“Hey,” he said, alerting her to his presence so she didn’t knock him out for sneaking up on her.

 _Mulder, that happened once,_ she’d argue if she could read his mind.

 _Scully, you whacked me in the head with a rock_ , he would retort, leaving out the part where he’d deserved it.

“Hey,” she replied, setting her mug on the barely wide enough railing as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

She relaxed into him as he said, “The king of the wild things is out like a light.”

“Good. He had a long day.”

“And, not much of a nap,” Mulder retorted with a chuckle. He felt Scully laugh against him as she shook her head.

“It was one nap, Mulder.”

“And, he was cranky the rest of the day. I told you being out in the sun all day does that. You’re a doctor, you should’ve known it already. Did they teach you nothing in medical school?”

She laughed and rubbed his forearms before resting her hands on them.

He pressed a kiss to her neck and rested his head on her shoulder.

“It’s peaceful out here.”

“It certainly _was_ ,” she retorted playfully.

“Ouch.”

Scully laughed and he pressed a kiss to her neck.

“I love you,” he said, unable to hide the amusement in his voice.

“I know.”

Suddenly, Mulder was laughing into the crook of her neck.

“What?”

“I can’t believe you just Soloed me.” She turned around in his arms, confusion evident on her face as he continued to laugh.

“Soloed-what?”

“Star Wars?” Her eyebrow arched. “Han Solo is being lowered into carbonite. Princess Leia tells Han that she loves him. He says, ‘I know’.” Scully’s expression didn’t change. “I know you’ve seen Empire Strikes Back.”

“Once. When it came out. I don't exactly remember most of it."

He blinked in disbelief before declaring, “That changes. Tonight.”

“Really? Watching _Star Wars_ is what you want to do tonight?” She retorted in a playfully suggestive tone, wrapping her arms around his torso.

“Well, I like that idea, too… buuuut, I don’t know if I could focus on anything but your glaring lack of knowledge regarding one of the most iconic franchise ever made.”

“I’m sure you could manage.”

“Movie marathon, Scully. You… me… snacks… Darth Vader… It’ll be a good time.”

“I’m not staying up all night watching Star Wars, Mulder.”

Mulder laughed. “Family movie marathon tomorrow. I can get behind that.”

“Muuuulder,” she groaned; although, she couldn’t hide the hint of amusement in her eyes.

* * *

It was either the urge to pee or the tingling in his arm that woke Mulder from a dead sleep. Scully was sound asleep, using his shoulder as a pillow, her arm draped over his chest. He stayed that way for as long as he could before nature called too loudly, forcing him to delicately extract himself from the bed.

Before heading back to bed, he made his way to the kitchen for a glass of water to find that the back door had been slid all the way open and the night ocean breeze was blowing through the house.

Panic rose in him and he nearly sprinted to through the house. No. They’d walked away from that life for a reason. He stopped at the first room, relieved to get there in time to see Scully roll over. She was okay.

Quickly, he moved further down the hall to their son’s room. His heart sank when he found it empty.

Before he knew it, Mulder was leaping off the back porch, desperately scanning the area for any trace of their child. Relief washed over him when he found the boy sitting along the shore, his knees drawn to his chest as he stared out over the water.

Mulder exhaled a breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He watched his son for a moment before making his way over and sitting beside him in the sand.

“What are you doing out here?” Mulder asked softly. The boy shrugged and looked toward the sky. “You can’t just take off like that, okay? You know better. You can’t come out here without me or Mom. You could get hurt.”

“Sorry,” the boy replied in a small voice and looked down at the sand, drawing lines on it with his small index finger.

“I’m not mad at you, buddy,” Mulder said, drawing him close. “You scared me, though.”

When he released the child, the boy’s gaze returned to the sky.

“Did you have a bad dream?” Mulder asked. The boy nodded. “Want to tell me about it?” The boy shook his head and flopped back on the sand, staring at the sky in his childish wonder.

Mulder let out a sigh and laid back beside him. Like mother, like son.

“Daddy?”

“Hm?”

“Do you really think aliens are out there or are you just messing with me, like with Santa Claus?”

Mulder chuckled. “I wouldn’t say that too loudly. Santa’s elves might hear you. It could have some negative consequences come Christmas.”

“You don’t have to pretend. I know Santa’s not real,” the boy deadpanned.

“What makes you say that?”

“He has the same handwriting as the Easter bunny.”

Mulder couldn’t help but to laugh. He'd definitely inherited his mother’s sense of reasoning.

“They have the same secretary.”

“What’s a secretary?”

“Someone who gets paid to write their notes to all the little boys and girls for them. They’re quite busy, you know.”

The boy looked at him with a stupefied look — the same look that Scully used to frequently give him during their FBI days.

“You’re weird,” he announced before returning his gaze to the sky. “Mommy doesn’t think there’s anything out there.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Mulder conceded. He paused before adding, “What about you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well… space is a pretty big place. Anything’s possible.”

It was when the breeze blew again and his son cuddled into him that Mulder realized just how chilly it was outside.

“Let’s go back to bed.”

“Five more minutes?”

“Okay. Five more minutes,” Mulder conceded, shutting his eyes. It wasn’t long before he felt himself drifting back toward sleep.

“ _Mulder_?”

His eyes fluttered open to find Scully sitting beside him, tears in her eyes and concern etched on her face.

“Hi,” she whispered. A tear clung to her eyelashes, threatening to fall.

“Who are you?”

It was when he watched her face crumble that he knew something had happened, something that wasn’t good. He forced a smile to let her know he was joking.

“Oh, my God!” The relief in her voice broke his heart. Something was terribly wrong, that much was clear. “Don’t do that to me!” She choked out, the tear finally sliding down her cheek. Scully studied him for a quick moment before asking, “Do you know? Do you have any idea what you’ve been through?”

Of course, he knew. He’d just been out stargazing with their four-year-old son.

Wait.

Where was their son?

Where was _he_?

“Only what I see in your face,” he replied, uncertain whether or not he _wanted_ to know.

Silently, Scully ran her fingers through his hair. Mulder tried to tell her that everything was going to be okay, that he loved her but the words wouldn’t leave his mouth. The look in her eyes told him that she knew; they said it back.

After a moment, she pressed a kiss to his shoulder and rested her head there, her hand still around his.

“Anybody miss me?”

Scully laughed a relieved laugh and kissed his shoulder again before nestling back into him. He rested his cheek against her and breathed in the scent of her shampoo, like he did most nights after they’d put their son to bed.

But, that had been a dream. A very real, very perfect dream.

He shut his eyes. The beeping of the monitors was a foreign sound to him. The chill in the room was foreign to him. Scully dozing against his chest, though, _that_ was normal. It had been their life for the last several years.

Or… what _felt like_ the last several years.

Mulder remembered all of it. Every birthday, holiday, and anniversary. He remembered when Scully told him they were having a baby and the elation that followed. He remembered bringing the baby home from the hospital. He remembered their wedding.

In some ways, it felt more real than lying in the hospital bed and listening to the sound of the monitors. He should be in their bed, listening to Scully’s breathing even out and the waves crashing against the shore not far from their bedroom window.

But, that wasn’t the case.

He wasn’t sure what the case was right now, but he could deal with that out tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> The Santa/Easter Bunny handwriting thing was honestly how I figured it out (when I was three), lol. My parents told me they had a the same secretary. When they saw I wouldn’t believe them, I was forced to pretend as, one by one, my brothers figured it out. When you’re 10 years older than your youngest sibling, it gets trying. 🤣


End file.
